High School Stories
by InTheRaine
Summary: Ok, suck at summeries so just read to find out. Can Gibbs and the team find a missing Marine who has been teaching at a high school?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Wow I guess you all kinda hate me now and it's understandable... I mean no one reviewed my one shot but it DID kinda suck. But oh well I was feeling slightly depressed and wanted to write. Oh and Justify is being killed. Just can't finish it. Sorry to all who enjoyed it.**

**Anywho, I just got this idea from a dream I had believe it or not. The "I" everywhere in the story is me for those confuzzled ('scept not in real life I just based it off what I would do in the situation and my personality, style, etc.)**

**And here we go!**

_My P.O.V._

I dragged my weary feet up the steps through my dorm complex, my body worn out from rushing from rushing from class to class.

I groaned as I saw the last flight of stairs. Slowly but surely I made my way up while lugging my oh-too-full-with-homework messenger bag. Retrieving my keys from my purse, I put them in and opened the door, quickly dumping the purse on the small table next to the door.

The dorm wasn't glamorous or anything and it was only big enough for me. Since it's kind of hard for me to be accepted by people, I couldn't stand the thought of a roommate; all I'd heard were nightmare stories.

Thank God my school wasn't that populated. It was only for those students who were going through high school and just needed a little extra challenge.

I sighed as I looked down at the overflowing bag at my hip. Though I was a freshman, they really piled on the work because I was too much of an overachiever and had to go for advanced classes.

I painstakingly dragged the heavy symbol of student-hood over to the cheap, tiny table, emptying it's contents. Making my way over to my little mini-fridge, I noticed small drop of crimson towards the room change between the kitchenette and the rest of the room. Then there was another. And another. All were leading to the space between the wall and my bed, which couldn't be seen from the door.

Curiosity got the better of me and I followed them, slowly turning around my bed, including the space in my vision.

That's when I saw it. A substantially sized pool of blood, freshly spilled, sitting in the carpet fibers. Taped to the wall behind it was a photo of my military history teacher, 1st Lieutenant Dylan Mathews.

I reached for the photo and turned it over (as indicated to do so by the arrow on the side) and gasped, my eyes widening in fear.

"No," I whispered.

On the back of the photo of the smiling Lieutenant, was a message, obviously meant for me.

"He's gonna die. And it's YOUR fault."

I dropped the picture and ran for my cell phone, my slightly bloody hands dirtying the back.

Quickly I dialed the operator and asked for the number of one particular agency. I needed to hurry...

**A/N: To satisfy my friend's actually very good question, it will be explained later why I know who to call.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Seriously does NO ONE take the time to click that oddly shaded button saying "REVIEW?!**

**T-T You people make me cry haha. Anyway I really like reviews and if you like the story at least just let me know. Or tell me what I need to improve. I welcome any type of constructive crit.**

**Ok next part of the story.**

At NCIS:

Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat with his hot, black coffee in hand. His bright blue eyes were trained on some random spot on the bright orange walls, betraying the fact that he was bored as hell.

Tony DiNozzo was at his desk, feet up on top of it, clicking away at Tetris on his phone.

_Dear God, please give us a case, ohhhhhhhhhhh please. _Ran through his mind over and over as he put together the little blocks. He looked up at Ziva for a second.

Ziva was fiddling with her knife while looking up to glance at Tony every so often. Their eyes met and he smiled.

"I am SOOO bored" he mouthed across the bullpen to his partner without attracting the attention of the silver-haired fox.

She rolled her eyes and smirked a little. "Me too."

McGee was clicking away on his computer, not exactly with rhyme or reason. Just messing around with a new program.

"What are you doing McElflord?" Tony decided poking fun at his favorite little target oughta ease the dense boredom.

McGee just glared at him and went back to typing.

That was when Gibbs phone rang. Everyone's head popped up, eyes filling with hope, making them look like little puppies who had been given the treat of going for a walk.

"Gear up we-," He didn't even get to finish his sentence before every one was armed and headed for the elevator. He smiled to himself and shook his head, following close behind.

--

I sat impatiently outside my dorm room. I had been sitting there while campus security came, and still when they left. I didn't want to go anywhere. I just sat for what seemed like hours, thinking.

_Why wouldn't they just take me? Better yet, what did I do?_

My reverie was interrupted by footsteps. I turned my head to see four people with black jackets and hats both reading the same thing: NCIS. These were the people I had called.

I slowly stood, still leaning against the wall for support.

"Hi." Was about all I could manage at the moment. I hadn't realized how hard it was to talk. I hadn't since I made the phone call, and I was reminded why when the emotion hit my voice.

"McGee, photos. Tony, Ziva, search everything." The man with silvery hair showing from under his ball cap spoke softly. He didn't want to freak out the teenager right?

The three known as Tony Ziva and McGee made there way throughout my room to do their job, while the older agent came over to me, sitting down against the wall as I had before. I guessed that was my cue to do the same.

Pulling out a little notepad he spoke.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs. And you're... Mary?" I nodded and he continued. "I need you to tell me what happened." I liked that he was being to the point. Not patronizing me because I was young.

My voice like a whisper I described the afternoon. "... And when I went to get myself something to eat I saw the blood drops leading to the pool and the photo."

"Why would Lieutenant Matthews be in your dorm room?"

"He came to visit me sometimes when I was having a bad day and wasn't feeling well." He raised his eyebrows and anger flared inside me.

"It wasn't like that Sir. He wasn't like that. He was my _friend._" I growled. I didn't appreciate the assumption that his intentions weren't so great. "I was having issues this year with family and with fitting in. He was there for me, almost like a counselor. I was getting the crap kicked out of me by some of the guys on campus because I was like this," I said pointing to my black and red "emo" clothes, "when he came and pulled them off of me. I could've taken em though." I smiled trying to make light of the situation.

He smiled too. "You called me Sir. Don't. I'm not military. Do you plan on going into the force?"

"No _Sir _I have just always had a great respect for those that do, well obviously. And I get the feeling you were military at some point."

He smiled again and his people returned finished with their tasks. Gibbs looked at me and said I was coming back with him. I was under protective custody because the person doing this was doing it to get to me.

I gathered my iPod and cell phone from my room, averting my eyes from the corner. I grabbed some snacks and my wallet, ready to go.

The ride back was tense. In a sedan filled with agents, I let a single tear slide down my cheek, hoping they wouldn't see. The woman known as Ziva did notice. It was the first emotion I had shown since they came to the dorm. She put her hand on my arm trying not to attract attention from the others. I wasn't in the mood and shied away, brushing the tear away.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm extremely upset currently and usually I write best that way... If I'm wrong, lemme know. I'd appreciate all the writing help I can get because I still kinda suck.**

I was in a dark room. No lights. No sound. My breathing was deep and panicked. As my eyes adjusted I saw a steel table. Next to it was a chair. Someone was seated in it.

As I approached I saw the person wasn't seated there by their own will. Handcuffs bound them to the metallic structure.

Their head was bowed so I couldn't see their facial features. Hair hung into what I assumed to be their eyes. This puzzled me and terrified me at the same time. I wanted to run in the other direction, but my feet pulled me closer to the ominous, and somehow alarming, figure. The panic that rose inside me as I approached was unprovoked but it was there. Slowly engulfing me.

Suddenly there was a loud noise. Almost like a small explosion. The person's head snapped back and my eyes widened in horror, a silent scream escaping my lips. My voice had left me. On the wall behind the head of the figure was a halo of blood. Beautifully horrifying all at once. A dark red patch on the victim's forehead was not the only mark. There were small drops of blood littering the face from knife wounds. Blood. So much blood.

That wasn't the worst of it all.

Plastered on their face was a satanic grin, almost as if they enjoyed very much what had just occurred.

Even that wasn't the worst.

The worst was that I recognized the face. It was my friend... It was my friend.

Lieutenant Matthews.

--

An arm jerked me awake and I grabbed it with bone crushing force.

I heard a small grunt and realized it was Ziva. I had fallen asleep.

She glanced down at her arm then back at me. I released, muttering an apology.

She smiled half heartedly. "Are you ok? You're white as a spirit."

That made me smile too. "Ghost. And yeah I'm fine. Bad dream." I stood, glancing around inconspicuously just to make sure I was still where I was an hour ago: The NCIS squad room behind Ziva's desk. I must have been kinda worn out.

_Wait it's only been an hour? _I checked my phone. Yup. One hour. It felt like that dream had lasted days. I shivered trying to shake away the memory.

Then I remembered the rest of the days events. Lieutenant... Kidnapped... My fault.

Rage began to fill me. I couldn't believe that someone would go this far just to get to me. I didn't see why.

My hands curled into fists and Ziva grabbed my arm again.

"What's wrong?"

"I just wish this would all go away." Despite my best efforts the tears I had been fighting started to fill the rims of my eyes.

"It's ok. Why would someone do this to you?"

"I don't know." I whispered. "I know not many people at the school really like me but I didn't think it was enough to force them into something like this..."

"We'll figure this out. We'll find him and the person who did this. And when we do-"

"I'm going to make them wish they had never been born. The few friends I do have I would die for. It also means I'd get revenge on anyone who hurt them."

Ziva smiled a slightly wicked grin. "I was going to say arrest them but I kinda like your take on it. Do you know how to fight."

"A little."

"You and me sometime. Maybe I could show you some more."

I could feel my face light up. "Wow that would be really cool. But I'm pretty sure I don't stand a chance against a Mosade (does anyone know how to spell that?!) Agent." I pulled out my iPod, putting just one bud in my ear so I could still hear her. Gerard's voice screamed in my ear

"You are never comin' home never comin' home could I, should I..." I bounced along to the beat of the drums and apparently Ziva could hear.

"You should meet Abby. You guys like the same music and have a similar taste in style. I think you'd like her."

Gibbs was coming around the corner and didn't look happy. I think she wanted me to leave in case something was wrong. Normally it would've upset me but I'd had enough for a while. I thought I could do with a little distraction.

I looked at her knowingly. "Sure just tell me where to go."


End file.
